Dreamer
by NEWSIES.x.LUVR
Summary: Hi, my name's Isabelle Christine Johnson and I'm sixteen. I live with my foster parents: Jane and Adam Hallaware. My plan is to graduate high school and goCollege of Santa Fe or Brooklyn College, all I want to do is get the hell away from here. ON BREAK
1. Opening

**Okay, no I don't hate Newsies and no I don't plan on going to either of those colleges and yes, I suck at making up names. I hope you liked it though!!**

I sat at my desk, playing with the Baoding Iron Balls I had gotten from my parents before they died. Yes, that's what I said: they died. Opening my life to the hellhole it is now, lovely huh? I should probably introduce myself . . . hi, my name's Isabelle Christine Johnson and I'm sixteen. I live with my foster parents: Jane and Adam Hallaware, who don't really give a shit about me and hate my guts but whatever, I really couldn't care less. My plan is to graduate high school and go to College of Santa Fe or Brooklyn College; probably majoring in something to do with writing, cause it's practically my life and the only thing I'm good at. Well at least I think. Pretty much, all I want to do is get the hell away from here.

So anyway, back to the before, I was thinking about what else I could do to put off doing my homework but when I looked at my planner, all I had was film appreciation. I sighed, taking the DVD out of my backpack and put it into the DVD player. Why Mrs. Pennystein was making us watch Newsies, I did _not_ know but from what I had heard about the movie, it didn't seem very appealing.

But boy, was I wrong . . .


	2. Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

I opened my eyes, stretching like a cat, and was slightly surprised that I hadn't been awoken by the screams of Jane telling me to get my lazy ass out of bed. As I looked around, I sucked in a breath. Where the hell was I? Standing, I observed the alleyway I was in and saw the Baoding Balls lying in the single blanket that, I was guessing, I had been left with. Picking them up, both the blanket and the balls, I sighed, shaking my head. As I walked out of the alleyway, I stopped, wide-eyed. Now I was really confused, seriously, where the hell was I? There were horse drawn carriages and women in long puffy dresses and boys selling newspapers . . . Oh!

"It's only a dream," I sighed relieved, smiling slightly. I must have left the TV on. As I walked down the street, I was suddenly pulled into another alleyway and slammed into a wall. Damn that hurt! Oh god, was it a dream?

"What's a pretty thing like you'se doin' all by ya self?" a drunk man slurred, his breath making me want to vomit and when he started kissing me, I almost did throw up. Instead, I shoved him off me and made for the opposite direction but there were men blocking my path and one grabbed at me. I slapped his hand away and tried to run again, but one was too quick and actually did grab me. Guess he wasn't drunk, he grinned eerily down at me before holding me against the wall and attempting to undress me but I, knowing it would hurt me more then him, brought both my legs to my chest and using all my strength, pushed him away, falling on my butt in the process.

As I quickly tried to get up, I saw one had drawn a knife and another had picked up a pole. I swore loudly before running in the opposite direction at full speed. There was laughter behind me, echoed by footsteps and as I turned down yet another alley, I saw a fence blocking the way but picked up my speed and climbed up it, to the other side. Ignoring my lack of air, I sprinted forward before bashing into someone, hitting my head on the concrete. There was a shadow over my head, along with prodding of the person's foot causing me to lash out, making him/her fall beside me. "Christ, what was dat fo?"

"Don't kick me," I groaned, sitting up, looking down the alley, to see the thugs were no were in sight, for now.

"Why were ya runnin' kid?" the boy asked, standing up and offered his hand to help me up.

"I was being chased, why else would I be running?" I growled, glaring up at the boy staring back at me. I took his hand and he pulled me up. "Aw, shit."

"What?" the boy asked.

"You're still here, Cyclops?" I asked annoyed.

"Yeah," he growled back.

"That was just lame," I muttered, trying my best not to limp away, I guess I ran too hard, but the kid noticed and took my arm, "What _are_ you doing?"

"Helpin' ya," he replied, practically dragging me to a diner.

"Blink, what took-," a boy started before he saw me and grinned. I glared at him but he only shook his head. "Helpin' people."

"Jus dis one," he muttered, sitting me down ignoring my glare at him. I threw my hat at him.

"I'm still here you know," I growled before kicking him, well attempting to, considering he caught my leg.

"I know," he smiled slightly, but looked back at my leg, pulling up my pajama pant leg.

"What're you doing now?" I muttered, looking at my leg with him.

"I'se attemptin' ta figa out what's da mata," he sighed, moving my leg so that it shot pain up my leg and I kicked him with my good leg, sending him a few feet backwards. "What da 'ell?"

"Sorry," I muttered, pulling my bad leg onto my lap.

"Jesus," he said, holding his now bleeding nose. Another Newsie handed him some tissues before kneeling in front of me.

"What's ya name goil?"

"And why should I tell you exactly?"

"So we'se know what's ta call you'se."

"Isabelle," I muttered, wrinkling my nose.

"Well den Isabelle, what chya doin' gettin' in trouble like dis." I glared at him for treating me like I was five and stood to the best of my ability only to realize that he was slightly taller than me. He pushed me back down but I smacked his arms away and punched him in the gut.

"Look," I started, "I don't mean to start trouble, I'm lost."

"Ya don need ta hit us," the boy I just punched muttered.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, "I'm not touchable at the moment."

"I can see dat," the boy with the bloody nose smiled slightly, nodding at her. I looked down but looked back up, raising an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" The two boys stayed silent and I sighed, standing, only to fall back down again. "Look, can you just help me?"

"What'dya need our 'elp foa?"

"Well it would be nice to know your names."

"I'se Kid Blink," the one who helped me stated, taking the tissues from his nose, "An' dis's Racetrack. We'se Newsies."


End file.
